Grunting
by Lucille Louisa
Summary: Mickey and Ian's first time together. Inspired by the caption when the door closes and the fun continues. (Playing with the idea of continuing more of their cut-off scenes)


Ian gasped for air; the way Mickey's crotch was pinning his neck made it hard to breath. He was also holding his breath — and wincing — in anticipation of the tire iron meeting his jaw. But Mickey stayed frozen where he straddled him. Ian took his gaze from the other boy's thigh and looked up at him.

The look on Mickey's face threw him off, dissolved his resolve and almost made him forget what got him here in the first place. Mickey's jaw had unclenched and his eyes were surprisingly soft. He straightened his posture a bit and dropped the tire iron. Ian's eyes widened and he realized he'd already been half-hard from their roughhousing. The clattering on the hard floor drew Ian's focus down and his eyes rested at the bulge in Mickey's pants rising before his eyes. He looked back up at Mickey. Ian's blood rushed to his dick and it strained painfully against his jeans. He watched Mickey apprehensively but the fire in his eyes was obvious.

"Yeah," Mickey whispered and grabbed at the ends of his shirt.

He pulled it up and over his head as Ian pushed out from under him and began working on his layers. His coat, his flannel, then there was Mickey, on his knees and helping Ian with his shirt. When they were both shirtless Mickey started to lay back on his bed, hands on his waistband to pull off his pants. Ian reached down to pull them off the rest of the way and pulled his gloves off as Mickey removed his boxers. Ian kicked off his tight jeans.

Ian wondered if Mickey'd already been hard in his sleep, his hard on was impressive. Tempting. Mickey made a quiet, pleading sound in his throat but quickly covered it with a forced cough. Ian found eye contact as he dipped down to take Mickey in his mouth. Mickey's lips immediately parted and he grunted when Ian hummed on his length. Mickey lifted his hips a little and Ian took him deeper, his eyes fluttering closed. When Ian raised a hand to massage Mickey's balls he felt another hand working near his. He opened his eyes and lifted off of Mickey's cock to see the boy fingering himself. A familiar defiant look crossed over his face and Ian felt the corners of his lips lift into a smirk.

"You could've asked me to do that," he said, careful to keep his voice low. His hand cradled Mickey's and he guided his pace a little quicker, causing Mickey's eyes to close briefly. When they opened again he just shrugged and slipped his fingers out of himself. Ian pressed his middle finger inside of Mickey, causing him to hiss in pleasure. _Jesus_ he was tight. Mickey reached out and pulled Ian's boxers down enough to free his dick and Ian saw his eyes go a little wide.

"Good for you, man," he murmured and cautiously took it in his hand. Ian brought his hand to his lips, sucked two of his fingers, and returned them to Mickey's entrance, using both now.

"Don't you mean good for _you_?" He quietly teased with a lifted brow. Mickey opened his mouth to protest but instead smiled when Ian curled his fingers inside him. Ian's expression grew to match and he made it his goal to get Mickey to smile like that more often.

The older boy winced when Ian added a third finger and he subconsciously tightened his grip on Ian. Ian jumped and breathed an "ouch" and Mickey shakily loosened his fist. He looked at Ian in a way that made him wonder,

"Mick, have you done this before?" Mickey released Ian completely and started to push himself up to sitting. Ian removed his fingers and placed his hand on Mickey's chest to still him.

"'Course," he said simply. Ian didn't know where his intuition came from, but he knew Mickey was lying.

"It's okay, you can-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Gallagher, you wanna shut up and fuck me already?" He'd pressed against Ian's hand until the boys were nearly nose-to-nose. Ian wanted to kiss him, cover Mickey's lips roughly with his own, toy with his tongue and swallow every sound of pleasure. But he didn't.

He kicked his boxers the rest of the way off and turned Mickey over. Mickey grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his chest as he let Ian spread his legs a bit. Ian rubbed his thumb over Mickey's hole before he lowered to tease it with his tongue. He heard Mickey's muffled exclamation into the pillow and smirked. Mickey was starting to relax under him. He ran his tongue over Mickey a few more times before rising to his knees.

"Drawer?" He asked, already reaching for it while Mickey nodded.

Ian tore open the wrapper with his teeth and rolled the rubber on. He tugged himself a few times with lube-coated fingers, then worked Mickey more. He pumped his fingers, earning a delicious moan, and he gave in to the painful twitch of his cock. He positioned himself and pushed into Mickey, eyes squeezing shut at the tight resistance he was met with.

"Oh, shit," he whispered harshly, clutching Mickey's hips with white knuckles and pumping slowly. Mickey's face was buried in the pillow but Ian heard him grunt as he pushed back against him. Ian kept it slow, but pushed in a little deeper.

"Jesus, Gallagher, you gonna fuck me like you mean it?" The strain in his voice had Ian desperate to see his face, to see what he was doing to him.

He complied and drove into him, both boys groaning and the sound of Ian's hips slapping Mickey's ass filling the room. Ian shifted one of his hands up onto Mickey's back, scratching up to Mickey's shoulder. Mickey cried out into the pillow and Ian thrusted harder. He snaked his fingers into Mickey's disheveled hair and tugged roughly on the black locks. Mickey released something like a growl and lifted his face from the pillow.

"Fuck, that's good," Mickey murmured and Ian grinned stupidly.

"Fuck yeah, it is," he agreed, and picked up speed again. His hip bones started to ache and he noticed Mickey's ass was reddening.

He reached down and took Mickey in his hand, teasing first, pulling slow with little pleasure. Mickey groaned. Ian caught a drop of wetness at Mickey's tip and tightened his grip as he spread it down. He began to pump him in rhythm with his thrusts and Mickey released the pillow to grab the bedsheets in fists.

"I'm…"

"Me too…"

They were panting, sweating. Ian's body tingled from his fingertips to his toes. His eyes rolled and his eyelids fell shut. Mickey's voice grew strained and his hips bucked erratically. Ian felt his hand grow hot and wet when Mickey came and he spilled himself into the condom. Their bodies stilled and they stayed there panting for a beat.

Ian pulled out of Mickey and moved to the end of his bed. He tried to stand but his legs betrayed him and he fell ass-first back onto the bed. He heard a breath of a laugh come from behind him and he couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips. Or the flush on his cheeks. He removed the rubber, tied it off, and tossed it in the trash. Ian felt Mickey shift onto his back as he braced his hands on either side of him to attempt to stand again. But Mickey's hand caught his wrist.

"Careful there, Bambi, don't hurt yourself. You can hang for a minute if you want." When Ian turned to look at him he withdrew his hand. Ian didn't try to hide his surprise, and Mickey only gave back that same determined look of nonchalance he wore so often.

"Oh. Okay," he nodded and moved to lay beside Mickey. They lay naked beside each other for a few silent seconds, completely still, only moving their eyes to glance at one another. Then, at the same time, they reached for the crumpled comforter at their feet and covered up.

"Got a smoke?" Ian asked. Mickey nodded at the dresser.

"Same drawer."

Ian found there were only two left, so he took one and returned the pack. He lit it, inhaled sharply, and passed it over to Mickey as he exhaled the smoke through his nose. Mickey took two quick puffs and handed it back.

"That was," Ian started, hopeful not to freak Mickey with his phrasing, "that was really hot, Mick." He couldn't help the sly smile that spread across his lips. He felt Mickey turn to look at him, considering.

"Yeah," Mickey offered slowly, "yeah, it was. And we ain't gonna talk about it ever again."

 _We'll see._

They passed the dwindling cigarette back and forth. It took all Ian had not to meet Mickey's eyes, to look at him at all. It was a careful game, the Milkovich boy was a walking, ticking bomb. But Ian wanted more with him.

Seconds after Ian stamped out the cigarette Terry walked through. The boys froze, wide-eyed, each affording a glance at the other while he pissed. That was the first time Ian saw fear in Mickey's eyes, and it fucking terrified him. Then Terry walked back through, and the fucker surprised them both.

"Mandy's making eggs." He turned to look directly at them and Ian could feel his heart beat in his temples. "Put some clothes on, you two look like a couple of fags," Terry said grumpily and staggered out of the room. Sighs of deep relief escaped Gallagher and Milkovich and they relaxed back against Mickey's pillows. This time Ian let himself look at Mickey when he wanted to, and he knew the leap his heart made was a sign of trouble to come. He snapped out of it and hopped up to get dressed. He tracked down all his layers and felt Mickey's eyes on him as he pulled them on.

"You can have the stupid gun," Mickey said. Ian froze with his pants halfway zipped.

"Wait, really?" He only just remembered that was the whole point of his visit. The gun, Kash, all of it seemed a little unimportant now. "Okay."

"Just don't let Mohammed think I've gone soft, alright?" He stood, pulled his sweats back on, and retrieved the gun from a dresser drawer.

"Come on, Mick, you know his name is Kash."

"Well I really don't give a fuck, now do I?" A brow was lifted as he offered the gun back to Ian. Ian took it, stuffed it into the front of his pants, and caught Mickey staring before he covered it up with his shirt. The corners of his lips tugged up yet again. He told himself to stop all this smiling before Mickey made him stop.

"If you ever wanna go again… well, you know where to find me." His hand was on the knob of Mickey's door.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off, Gallagher."

Ian swore he saw Mickey smile before he turned to go.


End file.
